


Boom

by Rinzler



Series: Retellings [5]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: M/M, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 09:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2687663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinzler/pseuds/Rinzler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A retelling of Season 1, Episode 13 from Greg's point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boom

Greg is walking towards his lab when he hears someone mention Nick's name from the break room.

It's not like Greg's a trained puppy that sits up and begs for attention at the mere mention of Nick's name. He really doesn't. But whoever just mentioned Nick doesn't sound too familiar, so it's probably someone from day shift, and the rivalry between the day shift and night shift CSIs is beyond legendary. All Greg is doing is making sure no one is talking trash or tarnishing Nick's name. Like a good co-worker. He's not eavesdropping.

 Then he hears the conversation that the day shift CSIs are actually having.

“So if he's worked two cases with her before, that makes her basically his girl, yeah? And-” “Yeah, yeah, we know, it's Ecklie's case. But this girl was murdered in her own home alone, except there were two glasses of wine in the place. Two.” “She had company!” “Yeah, and a hooker like that doesn't have many friends. Wonder how devastated Nick's going to be when he finds out.” 

Greg stops dead in the middle of the hallway.

**:LVPD:**

Nick is being accused of murder and Greg's life is falling apart.

He knows beyond a doubt that Nick is a better CSI, a better man, than anybody else could hope to be. He's seen Nick work cases, seen him drag in evidence box after evidence box, ask the lab techs to stay late, do whatever it takes to catch the killer. He's seen Nick give up days off to go into court and testify, seen him call victims and make sure they were still safe. He's heard of Nick giving the jackets off of his back to victims at crime scenes, seen him sit down with kids and just let them cling to him like an anchor, steadfast through their tears, or just give friendly advice, get them to smile.

The point is, he knows Nick, and Nick could never do something like this. Anybody ought to know that. Greg had watched him walk into Grissom's office and emerge ashen-faced, tears in the corner of his eyes, looking like he was barely holding it together. No killer cried like that.

But Greg can't really do anything, and that's frustrating beyond belief. He doesn't have any real reason to offer Nick any support beyond “We'll get this sorted out” or “Maybe you've been framed.” He can't exactly go up to Nick and tell him that he knows Nick would never do something like this because he knows Nick, and Nick absolutely does not kill. He doesn't even pull his gun unless he absolutely has to, and even then Greg's heard of him firing maybe once or twice the entire time he's been in Vegas.

So he confines himself to his lab and his angry music, processing the evidence Ecklie gives him with as much disconnect as he can manage. He shuts up and stays quiet, even resorting to headphones and not speakers. He works. And he tries not to think about what's going to happen to Nick.

At least until Catherine shows up.

His headphones are yanked right off, and the sudden absence of noise makes him turn to look right at the older woman, who's leaning down to face him with a half smile on her face. “How are you doing, Greg?" 

It's pretty much the last thing he needs to be asked right now, so he just turns back to his microscope and samples and replies “Same as you,” as easily as he can. “Worried about Nick,” he says. 

“Yeah,” Catherine says with a sigh, propping one hand on her hip. There's a pause. “I need to see his DNA from the crime scene. You have it, right?”

Greg turns to look at her in confusion. “A sample from the condom, yeah,” he says. “Popsicle in the freezer. But, uh, that's not your case. Much as I want to help, no can do.” He wants so badly to help, though- Catherine has faith in Nick, not as much as Greg does but more than anyone else here except maybe Warrick. Greg turns back to his microscope. Catherine wouldn't stop until she proved it wasn't Nick, and they all need that right now.

“It's my case for the next twelve hours. Ask the sheriff,” Catherine says, and Greg turns to look at her so fast his neck twinges. There's a heartbeat of silence.

Then Greg looks down at his samples and drops the bottle back into the tray. There's something fluttery and wonderful expanding in his chest right now, and he almost wants to call it hope.

“Yeah, I would never doubt your word,” he says. 

“Smart man,” Catherine replies with a smile.

Greg opens the door to the refrigerator and withdraws one of the samples he was given to analyze from the crime scene. He opens the paper bag, trying not to rip it, and catches the slide that falls out with surprisingly steady fingers. Then he places it under the microscope and leans over, adjusting the focus so the sample is visible.

“Nick's little soldiers,” Greg says, trying to make a joke out of it. “It's all you.” He wheels back in his chair so Catherine can look. 

“Thanks, Greg,” Catherine says.

Greg looks down and sniffs a bit. He's not crying. It's just- Catherine is working the case. She's going to help, she's going to make sure Nick isn't arrested or wrongfully charged.

He watches as she leans over the microscope and shifts a bit in his chair, hoping she notices something he hasn't. Well, that's not likely, but maybe she can put it into some sort of context.

“When did you say this sample was frozen?” Catherine asks suddenly.

“Uh, ten-fifteen AM," Greg replies, glancing down at the label on the evidence bag. “Why?” He says, looking at Catherine, his voice a bit shaky.

“These guys are all heads, not tails,” Catherine says, turning to face him.

“Well, that's normal, given the post-ejaculate time frame,” Greg says, pushing his chair back over to the microscope to have another look. “How's that gonna help Nick?”

He hears footsteps, and when he looks up Catherine is already gone. 

Greg slams his fist down hard on the table and bites his lip. Great. More answers than questions now and he still doesn't know if Nick is going to be okay.

He snatches his headphones from where they're resting on the table and jams them angrily back on his head. Time to go back to work. It's not like anything he can do will really help Nick, anyway. He's just some useless lab tech who can't even offer any support. 

He picks the first Marilyn Manson song he comes to on his playlist and turns it up to full volume.

**:LVPD:**

It's about two hours later when Catherine enters his lab again, this time carrying an evidence bag. Greg, seeing her expression, takes off his headphones before she can pull them off and shoves his chair over, standing up to make room for both of them behind his desk. He scrambles to create a space clear of pipettes, test tubes or other DNA paraphernalia and Catherine sets the bag down, reaching for a knife.

“I went back to the crime scene, and I found the murder weapon,” She says, and Greg's heart jumps straight up into his throat. Catherine slits the seal on the top of the bag open, turning it upside down and dumping a length of what looks like twisted white rope on the table. “Kristy Hopkins was strangled with this sash. It's fingerprint free, but the force of the pull would have scratched off epithelials from the killer's hands, right?”

“Abraded, yeah,” Greg says.

“And can you extract DNA from epithelials?” Catherine asks, almost cutting him off.

“If they're fresh enough,” Greg answers, shifting from foot to foot. He's starting to get what Catherine is implying.

She gestures at the table and steps back. Greg turns and grabs for a long q-tip, then starts swabbing the rope. He rubs the swab onto a slide and shoves it under his microscope, leaning down to adjust the focus.

“Okay,” he says, making his voice as steady as he can, “Epithelials are an affirmative. And they're good to go for DNA profiling.” Behind him he hears a soft sigh, as though Catherine had been holding her breath and relaxed upon hearing the news. He turns and looks at her, feeling more determined about the case than any other that he's had all week. “I'm just going to need something to compare it to,” he says.

“Well, we know Jack has a prior for sexual assault, so his DNA is on file,” Catherine says slowly, looking at him with hope.

Greg turns and start punching buttons on his computer, pulling up the logged sample as fast as the machine will let him. Time to prove Nick's innocence, once and for all, and get the scumbag who framed him and murdered his friend behind bars.

Six minutes later and they have the cleanest DNA match that Greg's ever done, and Catherine is breezing out of his lab, waving the printout high in the air as she goes to hunt down the sheriff. Greg sits back down into his chair and idly spins in a circle, grin so wide it's starting to hurt just a little, but he can't bring himself to stop.

**:LVPD:**

Greg watches from down the hallway as Catherine enters the break room and starts talking to Nick. She looks completely blank faced, clasping her hands in front of her chest like she's delivering bad news, and Nick puts his hands on his hips, looking as full of regret as it's possible to be.

_What the hell is Catherine doing?_

Then she keeps talking, unclasping her hands and shrugging lightly, letting them fall to her sides and Nick turns to look at her with utter shock painted across his features. Catherine smiles. There's a pause. and then Nick is saying something and walking towards her, pulling her into a hug.

They stand there, Nick's arms wrapped around Catherine's back and her hand patting his shoulders. Nick's shoulders shake a little, tremors running down his back. It's getting a bit personal, and Greg is starting to feel a bit like a voyeur, so he turns and walks back to his lab.

His part in this is over. But at least he had one.

**Author's Note:**

> This is about a full thousand words longer than what I normally write for this series, and a whole lot deeper on an emotional level, so I have no idea if it's still as good or if I just made it a thousand times worse. Let me know?


End file.
